A Dream of Misfortune
by breannatala
Summary: It's Severus' dream, so why is Potter in it? And what is he talking about?


**Takes place during Harry's 1****st**** year. Goes with all 7 books of cannon, as this is only a dream . . . **

The entire area had a surreal feeling to it; a dream. That's the first thing that confused Severus. He _never_ had a lucid dream, and he never tried, being one who enjoyed the adventures his subconscious deemed to drag him along in. But, unless magic was going haywire, this was a dream.

The entire area also seemed to be a mixture of known and unknown places, kind of woven together oddly, most areas not matching up. Even bits of the sky didn't match up; in some small patches, rain was pouring down. That's the second thing that confused him. Maybe someone was trying to tell him something?

As confused as he was, he continued along the broken sidewalk he was on. It seemed to be the only walking area around, the rest covered in grass or sand or water. It moved along toward a moving swing set just past the hill. Someone was swinging, and he wanted to know who had invaded his dream.

From behind, all he saw was a small boy, maybe nine or ten. Walking closer, he growled, causing the boy to start and nearly fall off the swing.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

"Swinging," he answered. "I got bored."

"Bored," Snape repeated flatly. "Let me guess," he continued in a slow drawl. "You and your friends decided to play a prank and enter my dreams, is that right? What spell did you use?"

"Huh?" the little brat asked. "What dream? I had a dream not long ago. I hated it. A lot of screaming and green light. Is that what you are talking about? Was that your dream?"

"No," he spat, irritated with the fake innocence of Potter's. "What are you doing in _this_ dream?"

"This isn't a dream," Potter continued, confused. "Are you feeling okay? Would you like to swing with me?"

"Potter." A simple growl to show the boy he wasn't playing around.

"Yes, Professor?"

"20 points from Gryffindor and a detention with me tomorrow after dinner for pranking a professor."

"What did I do?" he asked, starting to get angry. _Good_, Severus thought. _Maybe he will confess and save me the trouble._

"You know very well what you did," Severus snapped. "Now, get out of my dream." Potter glared angrily before jumping off the swing and running toward the line of trees in the distance. Satisfied, Severus looked around before sitting on the warm swing himself, glad he was wearing pants. Robes wouldn't do well while swinging back and forth on the swing that was meant for a child.

Staying there became boring after a bit. He was used to something exciting in his dreams, not . . . lollygagging about. With nothing else to do, he smoothly left the swing in favor of walking toward a dark building in the distance. Like everything else in this dream plane, it looked pasted together from bits and pieces of other buildings. Not very sturdy looking, but maybe he would find something to do there.

The walk took longer than expected, and the scenery around him changed more than once. Behind him, there was no longer a swing and he briefly wondered where it went. Not paying attention to what was in front of him, he stepped into one of the watered pieces and nearly fell in. The water came up to his knee.

Drying his leg with a quick spell, Severus made his way to the building quickly, paying more attention to his path. _Finally_, he came to the front door. With little hesitation, he opened it only to hear the sniffles of a child crying echoing through the large room.

It appeared that the building was in fact one large room. Pillars here and there, but otherwise a big, open space of patchwork.

The child sounded small, so Severus followed the soft sounds until he found said child curled into a fetal position, dressed only in underwear. The kid was maybe three or four years old, but it was hard for Severus to tell. He never had much experience with children smaller than eleven years old.

"Boy," he said quietly, and moved to touch him, and pulled back when the child tucked himself into an even tight ball. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Severus continued to talk quietly to the boy until he started to uncurl and, finally, rolled to face the adult. The green eyes said volumes, especially about whom the boy was. But why was Potter so little?

"Are you my daddy?" he asked, and Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. Was he going crazy? Potter was in his dream, deaged, and asking if they were related. No doubt a prank.

"Can you be my dad? I've always wanted a daddy," the child continued. "Uncle Vernon says my daddy's gone and he hates me because I didn't go with him. Can you take me to him?"

"You can't go to your father, Potter." His voice was flat. He honestly had no idea what to do and he was thinking of just getting up and walking off.

"Why not?" Another sniffle. Severus saw tears starting to well up in the boy's eyes.

"He's dead." _Keep out of this_, he thought to himself.

"Oh. Like Dumbledore? And Sirius?" the small by asked, and Severus looked at him with bewilderment.

"The Headmaster is alive, Potter. You saw him yesterday, when you were awake."

"He won't be. You'll hurt him," Potter said, sitting up. "But not yet. Will you be my daddy if you can't bring me to mine?" The tears were now running.

_Ignore it_, Severus thought. _Ignore it. No Black, Albus is still alive . . . he's tricking you, is all. _But who told him about Black? Must have been some relatives . . .

"You aren't all bad," Potter continued, and Severus willed him to shut up. "You saved me from that werewolf . . ." Potter held up his arms, as if wanting to be picked up. In a blatant refusal, he ran from the one room house, only to find that the door he came in with lead to his potions classroom. Only, it didn't appear to be _his_ classroom. Slughorn was in the front of the room, sitting at his desk. Although there were many students, the only ones that stood out to him were Weasley and Potter. A sixteen year old Potter, this time. This was a NEWT level course. He could tell from the book.

But Potter's book . . .

* * *

He woke with a start to his magical alarm. Checking the time, he realized he was later than usual to breakfast, so he dressed and stalked down to the Great Hall. Potter, the annoyance that he was, ran into him in the Entrance Hall. 

"Don't run," he scolded. "Three points from Gryffindor." He was about to enter the Great Hall when he remembered his odd dream. "Have any odd dreams lately, Potter?" he sneered, but the confused look on the brat's face was not faked. The boy truly didn't know what he was talking about.

_Great_, Severus thought. _I can't even go to _sleep_ without his arrogance in my face_. Just as well . . .

"20 more points and a detention after dinner tonight for pranking a professor," he stated again, but this time to a solid Potter. Severus stalked into the large eating room and sat down at the Head Table to watch Potter enter. His face, contorted in anger as he went to sit and chat angrily with his _friends_, spared only one deadly glare with Severus before settling into eat.

_Good. Let that teach him not to enter my dreams anymore_, he nodded sharply, not caring that it wasn't the real Potter and _was_ his subconscious that entered his dream. He was sure the brat and his friends did something to lose those 20 points anyway that a Professor hadn't caught them about.


End file.
